


The Heart of the Nexus

by tinycrown



Series: You ever have that one character you adore? yeah that's anduin. [2]
Category: Heroes of the Storm (Video Game), StarCraft (Video Games), World of Warcraft
Genre: Action, Angst, Blood, Bonding, Character Death, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, References to Depression, Violence, a bit of depression, adopted family, and im gonna give it to him, father/son relationship, this kid deserves literally everything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-02-28 13:09:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18757078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinycrown/pseuds/tinycrown
Summary: One-Shots revolving around Anduin's arrival into the Nexus.





	1. Garrosh

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoy more bs that comes out of my head.

“Why are you doing this?” Garrosh asked, his voice tired and gruff from the last battle withheld in the Cursed Hollow. The orc leaned forward on his elbows, causing the gash down his back to stretch and rip, bleeding forth from the sinew and muscle bunched together. The Butcher had gotten a good hit on him, but it was not a clean cut. 

Anduin had been present in the group, the only healer amongst them. Li Li couldn’t come, unfortunately. He grimaced, and focused healing on the center of the gash, deciding the rest continuing down his left arm could wait until after. He sat down on the log, and pressed close to the wound with his now bare hand. He could feel it closing under his grasp of the Light. Garrosh didn’t complain any further, but Anduin found himself growing somber. 

Garrosh had tried to kill him, before, in a cruel and painful way. Destroying a heavy bell made of solid stone, crumbling upon the prince like it was a fragile block of sand. It left him paralyzed for weeks, and his state of mind didn’t recover fully after. The gentle breezes and distinct scents kept him sane in his trappings inside the Tavern of the Mists, occasional visits to Mason’s Folly, where he could see for miles and simply breathe.

“I did not ask for your help,”

_ You did during the trial… what could count for help, I suppose _ . Anduin fixed him with a pointed, yet sad look, and ran a hand down his thick forearm gently, mending the broken bones found there. Garrosh’s hand flexed, as if he was going to pull away violently, but let his arm relax in Anduin’s hold. He grimaced again, and traced his palm, the bone inside was shattered. How could he stand this much pain? It left a sour taste in his mouth. 

He didn’t know why he was healing Garrosh, he didn’t ask for it, nor did it look like he wanted it. And he didn’t know  _ why _ he was being so gentle, why wasn’t he just getting the job done and leaving? Anduin sighed and placed his hand over the next series of gashes down his arm, one spanning toward his wide chest. He took a gander at the deep tattoos, and the webbed scars the Sha had left on him after Pandaria. His expression grew somber again, and his brows furrowed. Garrosh refused to look at him. He pursed his lips, and dipped his head to avoid any eye contact that could have been attempted. 

He could feel the scratched muscles tensing under his ministrations, discomfort or uneasiness, possibly both. Garrosh was uncomfortable, but Anduin was determined to get through him. If he could just tend to him a little longer. He lifted his gaze slightly, and found Garrosh staring down at him, his golden eyes less intense with almost a soft edge to them. He looked away immediately, fist clenching once the bone was healed and strong again. He huffed through his nose, the ring underneath it swaying in his embarrassment. Anduin almost found the courage to smile, but it came out sorrowful. 

His arm flexed again, and pulled at Anduin’s hold, which he kept strong and steady. 

“I did not  _ ask _ for  _ help _ .” He said again, voice low, gruff, and painful. Anduin squinted, slipping his fingers into the palm of his hand under his closed knuckles, trying to relax his fist to open. He traced the scars and the tattoos, wondering many things. He held Garrosh’s giant hand in his, and looked up at him finally. 

“No,” Anduin tilted his head, “you did not.” 


	2. Varian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anduin lands into the Nexus, confused and anxious, the first person he meets is not who he thought it would be.

Anduin crashed onto the ground with a loud thud, catching himself on his hands before he got a face full of dirt. He rose to his knees, and looked up. The portal had sucked him through in the middle of the day, appearing right in the middle of his office. He hoped whatever sick trick this was it was just a joke, because he had a stack of paperwork to get done by the morrow’, or the nobles wouldn’t hold back their… interesting forms of criticism. 

He rose to his feet and looked around, noticing the wild woods he seemed to have landed in. Where was he? It looked… beautiful, untouched by the heat and misery of battle. He could feel every aspect of light, the sun bearing down upon him. His metal leg-plates clacked in the quiet, causing the leather binding to cinch painfully around his bad knee. It was getting dreadfully hot… he swiped his palm across his forehead and looked around again before he continued to walk. There looked to be a dirt path ahead, where he could follow it to civilization. Well, possible civilization. 

Down the path held a surplus of wild greenery, bushels of flowers growing along thickets surrounding trees and framing the pathway. He let his hand brush along the thick bark of a massive oak tree, a healthy rich brown color that harbored a few critters. A chipmunk munched happily on a few acorns on the branch above him, and Anduin smiled. There was so much life, what was this place? 

Out of the gate of trees, Anduin stared wondrously at the grounds that stood before him. Curiously, he walked forward. He noticed people not too far, and slowed his walk. What if they were hostile? He stalked forward, and noticed a man carrying a big black gun, vines of ammunition hanging from its large circular barrel. He stopped walking, and looked around cautiously. More people, a woman with a sleek silver gun, with blue lines glowing down the ends of it. It mocked her suit, spots of armor here and there with mirrored blue lines also down her arms and legs. 

He heard footsteps coming from a distance away, and he turned rapidly, ready to unsheathe Shalamayne and smite whoever came close. Anduin squinted through the sunlight illuminating from his armor. The figure was tall and bulky, his armor a dull shade of blue. The priest held his breath, seeing the twin sword glowing on his back. The wolf’s tail hanging tightly from his head gave it away, Anduin’s eyes started to water with disbelief. 

_ Father? _

“Anduin,” his calming, deep voice rumbled, and Anduin found himself lost with grief. He wanted to sprint forward and hug him, punch him, and yell at him all at once. But he found he couldn’t move. His fingers twitched, his knee pulsated with great pain. It was telling him to run away. But he couldn’t. Not then, not now. But… this couldn’t be real. Could it? Ever since he arrived, there’s been an underwhelming sense of a dream-like land, like this place couldn’t truly exist. 

With great effort, he lifted a hand to touch his face, longing to feel the jagged scar under his fingers again. He hesitated, not able to truly comprehend what he was seeing or hearing. He inhaled shakily, biting his lip. Varian waited, ready to give him the time he needed to understand and accept what was happening. Anduin let his hand fall.  _ I can’t do it _ .  _ This isn’t real. This can’t be real _ . A sob broke past his lips, bowing his head, ashamed. 

“My beautiful son, I’ve missed you,” Varian’s voice was gentle, something rare to hear. Anduin smiled, looking up at him with a sad laugh on his lips, choked on a wail. He lurched forward and clung to his father, relishing the big warm arms wrapped around him. He felt the Light in his chest swell with happiness once he began to realize that this wasn’t a dream, and it was  _ real _ . 

Anduin pushed back and cupped his face in his hands, smiling with joy he hadn’t felt in so long. Tears ran freely down his face, and yet he smiled. And kept smiling until his cheeks hurt. 

“How is this possible?” He laughed, sobs quieting slowly but his shoulders shaking ever-so-slightly. Varian simply looked at him and chuckled, pulling him close again. “I’ve missed you so much, father… Stormwind has endured much without you, but it’s so empty,” He leaned into the metal-plated shoulder, glistening from the sun shining hot behind them.

“You have grown so much, Anduin.” Varian’s eyes looked wet, and as stormy and as blue as his son’s. A soft kiss was pressed into his hairline, gauntleted fingers carding through the pale blonde strands. They simply stood there and held each other for a few moments, happy to be together once more. Separated not by death, and reunited in life. After a while, Anduin pulled away, hands clasping together and fidgeting nervously.

“Father, where are we? I… it feels so peaceful here…” Varian snorted. 

“Peaceful, here in the heart, yes. But out into battle, there is no peace.” Anduin tilted his head. 

“Battle?”

“We gather here, and we are placed into battles against enemies and friends. We fight to destroy each other, but in the end, we come back here.” Anduin still looked confused.

“But.. what are we fighting  _ for _ ?” 

“That is up for you to decide. I would think of this as… simulated training but it’s  _ very _ realistic. Even if you are killed, you come back.” He shrugged, keeping a steady arm wrapped around him as they began to walk toward the large gleaming fountain in the center of the woodland. 

“I have to admit that sounds… strange,” he sighed, “to be put here just to kill? What else is new.” He leaned into Varian’s warmth, attempting to ignore the startled stares that seemed to be sent his way. Many of the personalities he attempted to foresee were very eccentric, a dark-skinned man dressed in all green talking to a slimmer, shorter woman leaning against a pink robot. He cocked an eyebrow, but chose not to speak. “Where are we going?” he mumbled to his father, the arm slipping from his back. 

“To find our friends.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its not as sad but trust me something will be sad between these two, you have my word.


	3. Fratricide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anduin learns a lesson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sometimes children must learn the hard way... no matter how much it hurts.

Anduin turned and bolted behind cover as the crack of a gun whipped past the rock, snapping and crumbling the edge of it. Anduin flinched and kept his head down as Johanna stepped behind him and blocked him from the next shot. He twisted on his heel, dust kicking up in the ferocity of the battle as the knight rushed forward and shield-bashed Nova. The sniper jumped away, aiming the gun again and nearly running Anduin through the eye, the priest moving fast enough for it to only be a graze on his temple. He yelped and ducked down behind Johanna again, healing her with a quick flash spell. 

“We have to regroup with the others!” Johanna shouted over the overwhelming spray of gunfire, Anduin sticking to her back as the smoke of sulfur made him choke and wheeze. He nodded and shielded them strongly, draining his mana at a rapid pace as they sprinted across the field and out of Nova’s aiming range. He felt the barrier shift and crack with every shot, his shoulders tensing as he leaped over a suddenly broken bridge. Most likely broken by Garrosh, no doubt. Luckily the damage wouldn’t last long once the fields reset. 

They regrouped with the rest of the team, Nova obviously not far behind as she hunted him down quickly when Johanna split off to help their other tank push back against the tougher-than-steel Blaze in his “glorious” mecha suit that required an _extravagant_ amount of repairs once back in the friendly, neutral Nexus. 

Anduin grunted as he was practically chucked across the field by a surprising force, knocking the wind out of him as he scrambled to stand, his knees wobbling as he tried to catch his breath. His attacker was approaching him slowly, cautiously… hesitantly? Anduin cleared his eyes from the dust and blinked rapidly as he forced himself to stand, readying a spell to blow his offender away so he could make an escape back to his teammates. 

Anduin froze, the world becoming so silent that his mind tuned out the echoes of battle going on not even a mile away. He felt a stinging scrape settle on his jaw as his fingers began to tremble and falter in his spell, brows furrowing as he took a step back, the man in front of him stepping forward. The fire in his hands became dull with the overwhelming nausea of fear crept up his spine. He’d never felt so vulnerable. So exposed, liable, weak.

_Betrayed._

He’d never felt this afraid of his own father. 

He shook his head as his father took another step forward, Shalamayne clasped so tightly in his fist that the metal groaned from the choking grasp. His breath became hyper and short labored, the fire in his fists fading completely as he backed away, finding himself stuck between boulders and his father. Poised and ready to kill. 

Rationally, Anduin knew that he would come back and the fight would continue until either team destroyed a core, but the irrational side of him was angry, confused and _terrified_ while also trying to figure out why he would choose _him_ to chase down. For _him_ to kill. Anyone else could do it. 

_Why would you make this choice?_

_Is this to teach me a lesson?_

_Have you always wanted to do this?_

…

_Am I that worthless to you?_

…

Anduin felt white-hot burning tears stream down his face as his father stopped directly in front of him, Shalamayne’s blade hanging right by Anduin’s flank. His body was trembling, leg screaming and pulsating in agony as he told him to run, run and _never_ look back. Twin eyes stared at each other, one quivering in fear, one hardened with remorse. 

“Don’t,” he pleaded as his lips trembled, reaching forward with his bare hands, feeling like a child begging for their life when he knew that he would come back anyways. “Please.” His voice was nearly silent, crackling with fear. It sounded as if he was trying to console Lo’gosh from his enraged state but in this scenario… His father was completely calm. As calm as he looked on the outside, he was raging on the inside. Screaming at himself, attempting to regain some control that he praised to be in his years before the Legion. 

He felt the blade slip between his ribs numbly before the pain came, hands frozen as his muscles bunched and screamed in agony. His nerves burning with fear and flame as blue eyes never left each other’s gaze. A choked sob loudly left his lips, wetness sliding out the corner of his mouth as liquid filled his lungs. It was painless and torment all at the same time. Overwhelmed with his heightened senses and emotions. 

Rationally he knew he would be back.

Anduin was not thinking rationally. 

He was thinking in fear. 

Varian caught the priest as he fell forward, cradling him in his arms as the boy went without much struggle. Shalamayne was left abandoned and bloodied on the dirt, her shiny blade smeared in filth with the blood of his child and the sins of the earth. He held his son to his chest and rested his nose in Anduin’s hairline, pressing light kisses as the boy twitched and shook in his grasp. He hushed him, cupping his cheek and wiping away his tears. He didn’t attempt to cover the wound, knowing in his own cruelty he would watch the life leave his child’s eyes slowly, painfully. 

He didn’t want to admit he wanted to stay with him in the misery instead of making it quick. He wouldn’t admit it. He didn’t like it. It wasn’t sick. He just wanted Anduin to know that he wasn’t heartless. He wouldn’t leave. He would hold him as his beloved young son, coddle him in his arms and let him _go_ by his own hand. It was on his terms, not the cruel destiny of Azeroth that had been lain before them all. 

Anduin sobbed again in pain, and Varian’s heart shattered completely as he drew up Anduin’s arms, hugging him fully and tucking his head into the crook of his neck. He hushed him as if he were a baby in distress- in which case he was. A baby in the Nexus’ eyes, still not grown enough. In distress, his death by his own father’s hand. 

_You’ll see him again in a few minutes. Traumatized and scared, but he’ll be alive. He’ll be okay. He’ll understand that none of this, Nexus or not, will be easy._

_A lesson I must teach._

_I must_. 

Anduin’s eyes slowly greyed as he stared, haunted, into Varian’s eyes. It looked like he was staring into nothing. He faded to dust in Varian’s hands. The former king frowned at it as it magically swept itself away from his armor, ready for Anduin’s reincarnation. 

“You didn’t have to do that.” Genn’s heavy voice cut through the tense silence as he came back to reality. Battle still raged, the enemy team breaking through their towers as they marched on to defeat their enemies. 

“I had to.”

“You _didn’t_ ,” Genn argued gruffly, stomping forward and hauling him up roughly. “We have a core to defend. Get off your ass and face your death with glory.”

“I _had_ to, Genn.” 

“In what world do you _ever_ have to kill your own child? Some sick sense of glory? A lesson? _What lesson does this serve, Varian?!”_ He shouted in outrage, spit flying from his mouth as he bared his teeth, animalistic growls purring from his throat. 

“A lesson that he cannot always be safe. That he cannot always trust those around him. Including me.”

“Do you want him to fear you on this battlefield?”

“I do not want him to deliberately go out of his way not to fight me.”

  
“Anduin is a _healer_ , he does not fight!” 

“Either way, Greymane. He must learn this… no matter how torturous it was. For both of us.” 

The old wolf glowered at him with a sick, disgusted look. 

“Even in death, you torment him.” 

Varian picked up Shalamayne from the dirt and walked away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter might be a sequel to this, unsure, please leave suggestions in the comments of what I should write for this. Sorry for being away for so long! <3


	4. The Act of Holding On and Letting Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They reconcile.

 

Anduin gasped as he was summoned back into the Nexus, the battle done and won by him and his teammates, getting nothing but slaps on the back for his adequate healing skills. It was silent. They all knew. They all saw. 

They all saw his father kill him.

They all saw him cry like a child over it when he knew  _ damn well _ that he would be revived in their home base.

_ Don’t hold it against me. _ He pleaded to no one,  _ You don’t know what we’ve been through _ . They wouldn’t truly understand the difficult push and pull of his and his father’s relationship, unable to understand that long ago while his father was still struggling between Lo’gosh and Varian that he  _ would _ have speared Anduin like that if he didn’t have any self-control and a loving son that could tolerate all sides of him once he learned that Lo’gosh was his father as well, not a separate angry entity that he needed to exorcise, but a man that contended with the nightmares of battle who fought to remember his family again.

He found himself standing by a fountain, distended off from the mainland where everyone was. He sat with his back to them, unable to look and grasp their happy faces.  _ How can they be so calm? So… joyful? _ How could they survive with lingering thoughts that weighed them down every second of every hour? 

Anduin felt the tears hit his hand before he knew he was even crying, his shoulders trembling. 

_ Why did you do that? _

 He hiccuped slightly and buried his head in his hands, nearly full out sobbing as he bit into his palm to silence himself. 

_ I know how to fight. I’m not afraid.  _

He felt a presence he knew all too well sit beside him, close enough to touch. Anduin tensed and held back his sobs, shoulders convulsing every now and then. It was quiet. Absurdly quiet, tense quiet. _Too_ _quiet_. 

Anduin stopped and lifted his head up, face cold with the breeze on his damp face. He stared up at the setting sky and leaned over onto his father’s shoulder. He nestled into his neck and staggered his breath, attempting to calm himself. A cold metal-plated arm wrapped itself around him and held him tight. Their armor knocked together awkwardly and Anduin almost laughed, a sad smile curving his lips as he folded his arms and simply sat beside him. 

He knew he would understand it sometime. That in his father’s mind, it needed to be done. Anduin didn’t really agree fully, but he understood it. That was all that mattered. He tilted his head to look up at his father, haunted but stagnant. The sturdy figure he could always cling to had always been so broken, but for him, he was stronger than he’d ever been. He reached his arm over and wrapped it around his stomach, hugging him back with fervor. 

“Thank you for staying with me.” He felt the gulp on the bridge of his nose and a hurried nod. 

“I wouldn’t leave. Never.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes the title of this chapter is a song by flatsound and YES you should listen to it.


	5. Garrosh's Reprieve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the ex-warchief knows how to tank correctly.

Garrosh would always act as the brunt of the impact. He could take it, and he knew he would have his… reluctant allies by his side. Malfurion, the prissy druid had skill, he could give him that. Alongside him was his wife, the Whisperwind woman. Another prissy priest. They had two healers on their team, but she relied heavily on her bow. Diablo roared and wildly lashed out, leaping in front of the incoming Stitches, swinging his hook around recklessly, almost hitting his teammate, Tyrael. He could tell that the warrior was getting tired of him real fast. 

He felt a wash of warmth pass over him as a divine star was thrown through his body, crashing straight into the oncoming abomination. It growled and searched out for its attacker, but Garrosh threw Gorehowl first, slicing him on the shoulder. Anduin appeared beside him, pushing the tank even further back with a chastise spell that kept him rooted as Garrosh dove forward, finishing him off with a slice to the neck. He would be revived within minutes, but it bought them time. The little pr- _ king _ , the little  _ king _ ran off to help the others, and Garrosh was alone. He managed to destroy the first two towers easily, smashing them apart with his axe. 

Before he knew it he was inching forward toward the last set of watchtowers, but an echoed shout stopped him from smashing through. He grunted as a fireball hit him, backing out of range from their ballistas and turning to find the teammate in distress. He found Anduin, held up in Dehaka’s claws like a broken doll. Claws wrapped around his waist as Malfurion slashed at his legs, Tyrande firing arrows from farther away to distract the beast so they could dive in and save their healer from certain death by Dehaka’s beastly maw. 

Garrosh charged forward, leaving Tyrael behind mid-swing as he rammed his shoulder into Dehaka’s side, throwing him off balance and caused the priest to be heaved into the nearest rock wall beside the beast’s flinging body. He got to his knees and scrambled behind Garrosh as the orc finished him with a single blow to the neck, nearly lopping off his head. 

Once his body had disintegrated, Garrosh turned to regard his team, but found the elves already distracted with Diablo, leaving the king behind. Anduin had a smug grin on his face, and Garrosh immediately regretted saving him. He glowered at the boy, but Anduin’s smile was strong as he healed his minuscule wounds. He said nothing, and neither did the priest. He merely dipped his head in thanks. Garrosh hummed, disinterested as he clutched the handle of Gorehowl. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written based of true experience lmao


	6. Arthas Learns a Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't mess with the Lion's Den.

_ I’m getting good at this _ , Anduin thought as he dodged yet another arrow by his offender, the double-crossbowed woman by the name of Valla, he learned, always missed her shots on him. She grumbled that he was too skinny to hit and that he should move less so she might get a shot. Jokingly, of course. She never wanted to cower out of a challenge. Anduin was her target practice, and the kingly scamp was  _ hard _ to hit. He must have looked like he had an endless amount of stamina, though she must have noticed the limp in his leg after a while of running. It would start to hurt with exertion. The thing keeping him running? Adrenaline and the will  _ not _ to get pierced by a bolt. 

He scampered out of her view and down the hill just as the battle-narrator announced their favors located on the opposite towers of the map. He groaned,  _ knowing _ that his father would still stick to the frontlines. He had to get back so he could just take care of the rest-

Anduin stopped just a frosty boot stomped down and revealed the one and only Lich King behind a wall of boulders, Frostmourne gleaming. 

“Arthas,” he gulped, tearing the holy fire in his hand to transport to the other. He held the warmth of the Light in his hands as the scourge master stepped forward, frosty breath wafting from his helmet.  _ Hard to believe this was once the man I met when I was just an infant…  _ Anduin peered under what he could see from the gap in the helmet. A pale face, red eyebags, strikingly grey stubble that matched his white hair.  _ Very _ hard to believe, indeed. He remembered a kind-faced blonde paladin, wiggling his bare finger in his face. Anduin grimaced and stepped back. 

“Your soul will serve the scourge.” His ghastly voice echoed in the open area, causing Anduin to shiver. It was getting cold… The fire in his palms increased their intensity as he took another step up the path. Arthas was a dangerous foe to go up against. Anduin dare not go in headfirst without a plan, especially so caught off-guard like this.  _ If I can lead him to the others, they can help me _ . Plan in mind, Anduin leaped into action. 

He jumped to the large rock just beside the Lich King, flying right past him as he nearly slipped up the muddy hill, hearing the heavy thumping footsteps behind him. He was fast, but he could go slow so he could lure the man into the battlefield. 

His plan nearly backfired as a cold tendril nabbed him by the neck, yanking him back and smashing him straight into the rock wall. Anduin grunted and propelled himself up from his elbows, ripping Shalamayne off of his back and blocking the whispering blow from Frostmourne. He felt the intense freezing chill stick to his face as he tried to desperately push the blade away from his face. His armor dug into him harshly as he was pressed further and further into the wall. It looked as if Arthas was extruding little to no effort.  _ That’s embarrassing. _ Anduin felt the Light bubble under his fingertips as holy fire flashed in front of Arthas’ face, making him trip backward abruptly. Anduin skid behind the king and threw a chastise spell through his sword, the man staggering and fighting to move, but found that he was paralyzed.  _ Only for a few seconds... Run-! _

He sprinted up the path from the rock wall and joined his teammates back on the field, throwing a brief glance behind him to find Arthas hot on his heels. He yelped and rolled to the side, tightening Shalamayne in his grip. He kneeled, palm flat on the ground as he rested on his toes, ready to spring up. He made a shifty glance in eye-contact toward his father, who met his gaze angrily. Just as Frostmourne came crashing down, Anduin rolled away and slashed at his exposed side with his blade, the weight of the metal flowing through as it sliced through his armor and into his side. Arthas grunted and elbowed him in the chest, the priest stumbling. He side-stepped the next blow, backing away again. Anduin wasn’t skilled enough with the sword to even think of defeating Genn, let alone the  _ King of Scourge. _

He grit his teeth and sent his holy spells at the man, hoping that  _ someone _ would notice and come  _ help _ .  _ Him _ . Ball after ball after  _ ball _ of fire was sent, Frostmourne nearly deflecting every shot as he was backed against a wall, the blade at his throat. He brought Shalamayne up to repel the blow and hold his blade at bay while it scratched and sparked with a violent clash of swords, grinding together like nails on a chalkboard. He felt the tip of the frost blade puncture the side of his neck gently, and Anduin squeezed his eyes shut. 

A sudden mass came from the side and crashed into Arthas, twin blade sheathing itself deep into his neck. Anduin cringed at the spray of blood and quietly healed his father as thanks, staring somber down at Arthas’ body. They turned to return to the skirmish at hand, and the priest found himself wondering how Arthas had gotten that far. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you notice from shipwrecked I really like making references back to when Anduin met Arthas when he was a baby
> 
> Yes, my headcanon is that Arthas was Anduin's godfather before Bolvar was.


	7. lion child vs fleshy skeleton lady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lol what

Anduin glowered as he was dropped back into the Nexus, annoyed and frustrated. He wasn’t even in armor. He was in underclothes. Why? He was doing paperwork in bed. The priest sniffed and coughed, brows furrowing as others began dropping in. He went to go find his father, standing beside Genn, who was also in his nightclothes. Varian eyed him with a glint of amusement in his eyes. Anduin glared again and punched him in his plated stomach. 

“ _ Don’t _ . I was in the middle of work. And bed.”

“You’d better be actually going to bed when we get. I  _ will _ check. And I will  _ absolutely _ tuck you in.” Genn grinned as the boy became increasingly frustrated. 

“I’ve got  _ work _ to do, Genn. Don’t test me.” The Worgen raised his eyebrows and put up his hands just as Varian laughed. He opened his arms and Anduin dove in for a hug, 

“Welcome to kingship, my boy.” Varian hummed as the teen grumbled. “Now you know why I was always so grumpy.”

“I’ve been like this forever, Father.” Varian ignored the sappy look from Genn as the two pulled apart quickly. 

“Forever a stick-in-the-mud? Sounds about right.”

“I’m actually going to muzzle you,” Anduin said seriously, turning to face him slowly with a dangerous look in his eyes. Genn snorted and shook his head, ruffling Anduin’s already messy hair. “When’s the battle? I seriously need to get back.” He planted his hands on his hips. Varian shrugged. 

“It starts when you’re actually wearing armor.” A new voice came from beside them just as the Banshee Queen landed from her portal, conveniently near them. Anduin rolled his eyes just as Genn growled. 

“I think they might be waiting for the rest of your shirt,” Anduin shot back, refusing to look at her. 

“Has the Little Lion boy not gotten enough sleep? Maybe you should take a nap with that attitude.”

“I’m just returning the favor, Warchief.” 

“Maybe you’ve decided to man up in favor of playing nice.” 

“Says the one who burned an entire tree while having a temper tantrum.” 

Her eyes flashed red and she huffed, turning around and marching away. It was worse than how Anduin phrased it, and he knew that she was somewhat guilty for the destruction of Teldrassil. The priest huffed and turned back to lean on his father, yawning. 

“I think I’m gonna have a higher death count today,” He grumbled and nestled into his father’s side. 

“If you’re lucky you won’t get picked at all.” Genn sighed, fidgeting with the hem of his own pajamas. 

“Right.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahaha i really want to see anduin bicker with sylvanas it'd be so fucking funny and make me fear for his life lawl


	8. Snowy Neo-President

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anduin has a new frosty futuristic skin.

Anduin stumbled down onto his knees as he landed from the portal, an awful crick settling by his hip as he shook his head from the dizziness. He blinked rapidly and stumbled up, nearly falling forward, but caught by familiar plated arms. He grinned up at his father, but was met with a wild stare. Anduin tilted his head and stepped back, looking down at his arms and legs. 

It… it was unexplainable, the armor he wore. If it could be called that. A mesh of grays and whites, assorted blues. Even looking through his own eyes seemed to be slightly difficult, a technical looking glass felt like it replaced his eyes. He glared down the blurriness and looked up at his father again. 

“You  _ look _ different…” His father commented, still grasping onto his elbow as Anduin regained his balance. 

“Do I?” 

“And you sound different-” His words were rushed, “Okay, this is weird- what’s wrong with your voice?”

“What… I don’t know!” Anduin exclaimed, fists clenching. 

“This is far from the strangest thing I’ve seen. You should have been here for ‘Grand Marshal Varian’.” Jaina laughed, making the former king glare at her. 

“It’s not like I _wanted_ that stuffy armor. I looked ridiculous.”  
“I’m sure,” Anduin hid a soft laugh behind his hand. It had been a while since he’d seen his… _younger_ aunt. She must have been only four years older than him, early twenties. It was weird seeing her, though. She was like that when he was a _baby_. 

“You look quite frosty!” Jaina flicked her hands through his hair, pulling out his platinum blond strands out far enough for him to see. Anduin smoothed it back and rubbed his neck. 

“I haven’t had short hair since I was twelve…” He sighed, “It feels weird!” He scrubbed at the hard armor on his neck and his jaw. “Who put this on me?”

“Sometimes the Nexus is weird…” Varian laughed, prodding at his hair himself. “Are… are your eyes  _ black _ ?” 

“Are they? I can’t see them!” The priest retorted hotly, frustrated that he still couldn’t see his face. 

“Here, come look in the fountain.” Jaina took his arm and let him stare into the water. He peered down, not believing it. 

“They  _ are _ black… oh, Light, am I demon or something?” 

“ _ No _ , you’re not a demon, boy.” His father chortled, cupping the back of his head and looking at his face again. “White hair suits you.”

“It’s platinum blonde, Varian, humans can’t have pure white hair  _ that _ young.”

“Says you!”

“It’s from mana radiation!” 

“Oh… right, sorry. Thought all frost mages started going white after a while.” The warrior chuckled with a concerned stare at his mage friend. The bomb was still fresh for her, out-of-time she may be. It still hurt. Varian turned back to his son, who was now observing the futuristic Shalamayne. It was a pure white with a flowery-blue patterned blade. He was expecting more yellow, or more white.  _ The blue is nice, though. It looks nice on him.  _ He sat down next to Anduin on the bench and took his own sword for a distant comparison. The two looked  _ nothing _ like each other. 

Varian leaned back on the bench and carded his hand through Anduin’s short, light hair. It was true, he hadn’t seen the boy with cropped hair since that cut when he was twelve. It was nice to see again, but it looked strangely… business-like, on the priest. It didn’t suit his nature, but it suited a disguise. 

_ “Get ready, Champions, your battle waits for you!”  _ An ethereal out-of-body voice called from above as the portals closed, the contestants standing and awaiting transport. 

“Anduin,” Varian called, a smile cracking his lips.

“Yes, father?”

“Use your voice to scare the shit out of Garrosh.”

The priest snorted loudly and giggled behind his hands. “Yes, father!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet those black-blue glowin fuckin eyes and weird vibrate-y voice would scare the absolute shit out of garrosh bc he wont be expecting it


End file.
